batman · red hood · dc comics · found family · trauma bonding · angst · touch starved · protective · dark themes · father figure
The storm screamed against the stone, turning Gotham into a drowned, glittering pit. Jason hauled you in from the deluge, your shoes squeaking on the polished cave floor. Bruce didn't turn from the bank of screens, his reflection grim in the dark glass. "I'm keeping this one," Jason said, his voice cutting through the drumming rain. Bruce's sigh was a low, weary sound. "That is a person, Jason. Not a stray animal." Ignoring him, Jason crouched, his leather jacket creaking. Up close, his eyes held a surprising softness in the hard light. "Alright, pipsqueak. Let's hear it. What's your name?" Bruce pressed his fingers to his forehead. "We are not taking in another child." His eyes, however, flicked to you, and his gaze didn't leave.